


Life in the Fish Bowl

by Aishuu



Category: The President's Daughter series - Ellen Emerson White
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 11:40:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3976693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aishuu/pseuds/Aishuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day before the second inauguration, Meg and Preston have a conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life in the Fish Bowl

The night before the second inauguration ceremony, Meg found herself alone in the White House. Her mother and father were at a reception, and her younger brothers were attending a basketball game. She'd been invited to both, but had begged off without regret. Despite the advances she'd made in physical therapy, walking too much tired her and she knew tomorrow would be a very full day.

She was flipping idly through the channels when someone knocked on her door. "Come in," she called, feeling cross that the staff would disturb her. The Cast of Thousands were always willing to bend over backwards for the First Family, but they never learned when they were being _too_ overbearing.

The door cracked open and she found herself surprised to see the only person who wouldn't annoy her right now.

"Hey, Meg," Preston said, leaning against the door. "Have you eaten yet?"

She was very sick of the concern over her eating habits, but she knew she'd given them cause. "I had a bagel an hour ago," she told him. "I've met my 1,500 calories a day."

He rolled his eyes, not impressed. "Then you can keep me company while I eat. You haven't left this room all day."

She found herself frowning. "I suppose your spies told you?"

"The CIA owes me a couple favors," he replied easily, unbowed by her less-than-welcoming words. "You coming?"

The thing about Preston, Meg thought as she sat herself down at the kitchen table, was that he always got his way. He was so blasted charming (and his movie star good looks didn't hurt things, either) that it was impossible to say no to him when he asked. She watched as he puttered around the kitchen, putting together the makings of tacos. She heaved a sigh as he set an empty plate in front of her, but didn't bother protesting.

"I heard there were leftovers, so it saves me some time," he replied as he chopped tomatoes. The microwave was humming as he reheated the meat, and he'd already deftly cut the lettuce up. Preston had put an apron over his snazzy suit, but still looked out of place doing something so domestic. "Onions?"

"No, thank you," she said, propping her head up against her good hand. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Can't I just want to enjoy the pleasure of your company?" He moved onto grating a block of cheddar – the White House kitchens were stocked with the best ingredients, but they often required extra preparation.

"Not on the night before inauguration. I'm sure there's more important things you should be attending to." It was true they would often hang out and do nothing, but Preston was the White House Communications Director. Surely he was in high-demand right now. Meg understood.

"There's nothing more important than spending time with you," he replied as he set down on the table. He raised his eyebrows as he nodded to the empty shells. "Ladies first."

She almost made a crack about not being a lady, but it wasn't worth the effort. She was gradually starting to gain her appetite back, and the spices smelt good. She had always had a weakness for tacos. So she reached over with her good hand and started to stuff a taco for herself, putting on extra sour cream and salsa.

Preston draped his jacket over his chair and undid his tie. The light green shirt looked good against his skin, but then again everything looked good on him. There was a reason why he'd made People's Fifty Most Beautiful People list last year.

It was strange how comfortable she felt eating such messy food together. Usually she was overly aware of people watching how she was handling herself, but it was nice to sit down and enjoy a meal with Preston. He always managed to find the perfect balance between concern over her and letting her do things for herself. So even when her shell cracked and dropped all of her fillings (thankfully onto her plate instead of her lap), she was able to laugh about it.

They talked about politics, since that was their life's blood. She was in the middle of her junior year at Brown, and while her courses were interesting, she wasn't able to participate as fully as she would have liked. She couldn't express her opinions in public because she didn't always agree with her mother's policies, although she understood the reasons for most of them. But if the media ever got wind that the First Daughter had a mind of her own, she'd never hear the end of it. It was best to avoid that catastrophe.

After discussing her mother's health care reform initiative, North Korea and other doomed causes, Meg felt relaxed enough to try to pin Preston's motivations in seeking her down.

"What's your ulterior motive in making sure I eat dinner? Not that the tacos aren't lovely, but I know something is bothering you," she said, dabbing at her lips daintily with a napkin.

"Must I have an ulterior motive?"

"You're a politico," Meg replied, with an uncompromising smirk. 

Preston set down his half-eaten taco, his expression carefully neutral. "I was told that you will not be accompanied by Jack tomorrow," he said.

"We're off again," she replied. Her relationship with Jack had never been a stable one, and she suspected they would come completely apart by the time she graduated college. She liked him, but everyone was right: he was a jerk. She couldn't see spending the rest of her life with him, and the idea of having Republican in-laws made her shudder. "But you already know that."

"The CIA is pretty good at its job," Preston replied. "I was going to offer my services as your escort for the inauguration."

"Are you asking me out on a date?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. For years and years, she and Beth had joked about dating Preston, but she'd never thought it might actually happen. She felt something in her stomach tighten, wondering.

For a second, she thought he was going to give her a clever quip. "I can't do that," he replied. "Even if I wanted to."

Of course he couldn't. Imagine the bad press that would result in the president's daughter dating a member of the staff. "Then why ask?"

"Because I thought you might have more fun going with company," he replied.

She was annoyed, and wondered if her parents had put him up to this. "I'm not a charity case."

"There's no pleasing you, is there, Meg?" he asked, and she could see he was getting frustrated. "I enjoy spending time with you, and I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to."

She knew she was being shrewish, but she was tired and not looking forward to tomorrow. "So we'll go as friends?"

"I'm always your friend," Preston replied. "No matter what, I'll always be that."

And nothing more, she thought irritably. The brief flash of hope she'd allowed herself to indulge only made her feel more disappointed now. "I hope you have a cummerbund that matches my dress," she replied.

He flashed his fabulous grin at her. "Do I never not have the appropriate attire?" he shot back, and like magic, the tension was broken between them. 

"Thanks, Preston," she said, feeling more upbeat about the event. Tomorrow was going to be exhausting, but if Preston was with her, it wouldn't be horrible.

"No problem," he replied, reaching out to rest his fingers gently over her crippled hand. "Just so you know, even if I can't ask now doesn't mean I never will."


End file.
